Excuse the pre-emptive disclaimer, but if I ramble on a bit, while lacing the review with wild inaccuracies, then I apologies unreservedly for taking shite.
I shouldn’t have really attended this as I was still in the grips of a virus that has wiped out a full week - and continues to have its grip on me - but sometimes you have raise your ass from the sickbed, and dose yourself up with enough over the counter meds to raise the dead, just to get a fix of dirty rock and roll.
It’s not big, it certainly isn’t clever, but it can be worth it…….if it doesn’t kill you.
So what was the show that was worth risking my health for I hear you ask?
Well with Tav Falco slipping out of sight in the rear view mirror, and garage aficionados wondering where they would find another new kind of (old) kick to get the blood pumping, it was down to the annual “Lux Lives” event turning up just in the nick of time to save the day, and I wasn’t going to miss that.
In honour of the magnificent front man, of the equally magnificent Cramps, Glasgow really does enjoy slipping into some rubber and paying homage at the altar of trash decadence, and this year in McChuills the city did it with style.
The night started off in confusion – as anything involving the music of the Cramps should – as what appeared to be a random attendee took to the stage before the billed Fnords and delivered a leftfield cover of Green Door that I would purchase a copy of right now if I knew who the unassuming baseball cap wearing fella was, and of course if he had a copy to sell.
Unexpected as the performance was it did set the quality bar high for others to follow, but The Fnords weren’t to be fazed and the two girls, one guy trio delivered a seismic blast of sonic aggression that I I’d happily sacrifice my hearing to.
It’s Dick Dale in a blender and The Cramps being happy sapped in the nicest possible way.
It certainly won’t be the last time that I see them as I’m now desperately wanting to catch them do a full set of their original material rather than a fistful of ‘fuck you’ Cramps covers.
Mondo A Go Go were going to struggle after that, but they valiantly made the effort and managed to keep the energy levels needle dancing in the red throughout with Whoo He Ha Ha a shining highlight.
Geek Maggot Bingo were never going to be looking to take any prisoners and tore into McChuills with a frenzied set of covers that seen both the singer/guitarist and bassist leave the stage to get in the faces of the crowd in an attempt to push for a reaction.
Rising from the ashes of the Acid Fascists the band are pushing hard at what they do and are certainly deserving of our attention.
And now is when it gets fuzzy.
It was either The Brutes or F for Crack next, but let’s just go for the latter first.
F for Crack are the band who snatched success from the jaws of defeat when initially the feedback that squealed defiantly whenever the mic came close to the apple laptop threated to impose its will on their set, but with some knob twiddling, and the singer taking to the side of the stage to minimise the electronic hissy fit, everything just clicked into the place and the duo were able to deliver the “gonzo” performance of the evening.
Bits of it were like Alan Vega had managed to crack a smile after knecking a load of E’s.
Yes it was that good. Like Suicide as a party band.
The Brutes were of course the slack jawed cousins of the night as they did the ramshackle bop.
Operating in an alternate universe where the fifties clash with the sixties over drugs, draft dodging, psychedelia, thrashing guitars and a perverse attraction to a punk ethos. They are the antidote to everything that is clean and shiny in life.
And with that I threw in the towel.
A snot stained towel weighted down with an excessive amount of mucus, and probably bits of brain, that I had regularly deposited into as the bands played.
All in all, a very special night, and one that I am sorry that I couldn’t manage to hang on until the end of.
On the plus side is that I did leave with a Lux Goodie Box, a 7” single featuring four of the acts, and a commemorative CD.
Many thanks to Colin Duff for organizing the event, and for supplying a CD for my Aussie mate.
Here's to 2015.